


Twilight Shadows

by Mr Son (MrSon)



Series: Wynn-fic [1]
Category: Minecraft (modded), The Yogscast
Genre: Adventure, OFC protagonist, a wild OC-fic approaches!, slow-paced plot, what do you call pre-slash when it's het?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-16 01:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10561428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrSon/pseuds/Mr%20Son
Summary: Hunting down demons and evil mages was enough of a challenge for Wynn's life, thank you very much. But when she discovers the fate of the world is in danger, how can she not step in to save it? At least she has some help, assuming they help more than they get in the way...Note: This is a very OC-heavy fic, and there won't be any Yogscharacters in the story for a while.(Note to the Yogscast: Do not read any of my fics on stream.)(I do not support the Yogscast company. I write because I enjoy the characters.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mary, and Shaun, and my mum, for pre-reading this fic and helping me edit.

=== === ===

She'd been told it wasn't far out from the village, but it still took her some work to find the path. The looming trees and the yellowing, half-wilted spring undergrowth pressed in from the sides, turning the once-clear dirt path into a dark tunnel. But as a silver lining, the less than green greenery had kept most of the snow off the earth, and the thawing ground wasn't half as muddy as the main road had been; the earth no longer felt like it was trying to suck her down into the muck. Her boots would still need a good scrub tonight, but that was a distant concern.

The house wouldn't be far, the villagers had said, looking thoughtfully around at each other as her questions led them to realize that the mage hadn't come into town all winter. The villagers hadn't been able to tell her much. Apparently the mage kept to themselves, mostly, only coming into town for supplies and not engaging in conversations with the locals. Only the innkeeper had spoken more than a few practical words with the mage -- due to a sudden storm trapping the mage in town for a night. A quiet, thoughtful person, the innkeeper had said, very fond of spiced apples.

She'd bought a pair of apples off the innkeeper, more in thanks for the innkeeper's time than from any expectation she'd be sharing them with the mage.

Her head was aching, and the voice of the guardian was getting more insistent. She rubbed her temples in a vain attempt to ward off her impending headache. "Yes, I know." she muttered. It wasn't like she couldn't _tell_ that this house was going to be ground zero for all the trickles of demonic magic she'd felt drifting throughout the entire region. Magic which was weakening the plants, leaving them sickly and slow to adjust to the change of the season. The forest should be a vivid green with new leaves, the crocuses should be blooming, the bees should be thick in the air.

Silence. Bare branches.

When she reached the scruffy clearing that the remains of the cottage were decaying in, she couldn't bring herself to be surprised.

It wasn't actually completely ruined. Half the roof's thatch had collapsed. The door hung at an angle, the top hinge fallen out of its rotting frame. But the stone walls were still sturdy, and she could feel that the wood bracing them was heavy apple oak, treated against water and insects. There was a basement below, but it was reinforced with wandering roots from the forest trees, and was in no danger of collapsing.

With a bit of work, the villagers could probably reclaim the house and move someone else in. If they wanted to, anyway. She wrinkled her nose at the hot, oily, prickly feel in the local magic. The place was so soaked in demonic energy that she would have expected to see a live demon wandering around if it wasn't for the fact that the nearby trees were definitely not on fire.

So if there was no visible demon, and the house seemed abandoned...

Untying her scythe from her back, she kicked at the door's remaining hinge, knocking the door to the ground and stepping over it. With the hole in the roof, there was plenty of light to see the creeper sitting on the muddy floor near the back wall. It raised its head and her hands tightened around the scythe's shaft.

"Oh."

What. A creeper had _not_ just spoken to her. Also, was it wearing a collar? With a _bell_? What in the name of-

"You're not my master."

The creeper turned away again, its gaze focused on something by its feet. No seriously. What the hell? Was that a book? Was she honestly seeing a literate creeper? Had this mage been up to some kind of bizarre monster experiments? Or... had the mage been turned into a creeper? No, if anything the mage was probably the "master".

She took a step forward, then froze as the creeper raised a claw. But it only reached for its book and turned the page. Had its master taught it to read? To speak? Why? There had to be better ways of having someone read to you than using a _creeper_ of all things.

The creeper continued to ignore her, entirely focused on its book. It turned another page. She wasn't close enough to see what was written, but there seemed to be some sort of diagram. She took a step forward, then another.

The demonic energy spiked, less oily but prickly enough that she had to pulse her own mana to push away the feeling of being jabbed with a million tiny pins. Was... was this creeper the source of the demonic energy? No, surely not. If so, this was the calmest demon she'd ever seen. Most were furious at being pulled into the physical world, and would wreak utter havoc in their attempts to return home. A demon sitting calmly and ignoring a human who was soaked in the magic of _this_ world, which they loathed so much?

Unless... most mages don't like to mix disciplines. They pick out their favorites and stay with them. Either because the others feel wrong to them or simply due it being a great deal of work to master even one area of study. But if this mage had experimented with witchery... Had made themselves a familiar in the old way -- the dangerous way...

The creeper turned another page in its book. She was close enough now to make out detailed drawings of crystals commonly used by thaumaturges. Unusual. A thaumaturge would have little reason to dabble in demonic powers, and ones who liked to use that kind of energy usually prefered siphoning off the small trickles which leaked into the Nether, which couldn't have caused a flood like the kind washing over her now.

She flinched as the guardian started screaming in her head again. For fuck's sake she was busy _investigating the problem _. Shut up for a while; let her figure out what's going on!__

__As she leaned over the creeper, focused half on trying to figure it out and half on trying to shut the guardian up, her braid slid over her shoulder and smacked the creeper on the head._ _

__It jolted to its feet, and she jumped away, both of them left facing off on opposite sides of the cottage._ _

__She held her scythe up, ready to knock away the creeper if it charged her. The creeper wasn't moving; it was pointing a stick at her- no wait, it was a wand. A small, wooden wand with some sort of gem on the tip that felt like a tiny echo of lightning._ _

__It looked unnatural; she'd never really seen a creeper on its hind legs like that before, balanced awkwardly with one front leg gripping the wand and the other cradling its book to its chest. It had taken the time to grab the book when it jumped backwards? It was less worried about getting away from her than protecting its things?_ _

__She wasn't ready to lower her guard just yet, but she did lower her weapon. "Put that thing away." She didn't take a hand off her scythe to gesture at the wand, but the creeper seemed to understand anyhow. It slid the wand into its own torso, and that was certainly a creepy sight as it sank into the stringy green... whatever substance creepers were made of. She'd never put a lot of thought into the details of creeper biology before, and she wasn't about to start now. She did plants, not monsters. "Why are you here?" she asked._ _

__That was a good question. Even if the creeper had been the mage's familiar, it was clear the mage was long gone. Had it been tasked with keeping guard over its master's things? Was that why it was so protective of the book?_ _

__The creeper did a strange wiggling motion, moving its torso sideways, before speaking, "My master brought me here." It sat down on the floor again, setting its book beside it and gently running a claw over the worn leather cover. "I'm supposed to help them study."_ _

__"Where is your master?" she asked, certain she knew the answer._ _

__"In the basement." The creeper's voice was so calm and matter of fact that she wondered if she was wrong for a split second before it added, "They're dead now."_ _

__The basement then, she'd need to find the entrance for that. She finally took her eyes off the creeper to glance around the decaying shack. A few things had been obvious from the moment she'd walked in, and now she took the time to look closer._ _

__The desk was covered in a layer of wet dust. Mold gave a hint of crisp natural freshness to an aura otherwise choked with the flat dullness of long-dead wood and late nights dedicated to the most boring and studious types of thaumaturgy._ _

__The door near the desk would lead to the back yard, which might be useful. It was a common style in this region to have the basement entrance on the outside of the house. But she could feel the outline of the building in the echoes of growth from dead planks of wood -- from the fresh life of mold and mushrooms trying to sink in past the protective treatments on the supports. It didn't feel like the structure had any protruding pieces outside that could be a back stairs down. So... where?_ _

__A shelf, covered in rotting and useless books. Mold had grown, died from the winter chill, and was starting to grow again. The shelf also held a few knick-knacks and the skull of a marten, which surprisingly carried no magical aura at all except that caused by the natural death of an animal. The wall behind it felt solid -- no hidden passages there._ _

__And a bed, the lower half of it buried in slimy thatch from the roof, its shadow blooming with lumpy white mushrooms swollen with spore production. Their internal pressure twanged against her magical senses and she had to shake it off before she got too distracted and the guardian started yelling at her again._ _

__The creeper was watching her; it made her shoulders itch as she tried to pretend its eyes weren't on her. That she wasn't standing within range to get a creeper's attention and just... trusting that it wouldn't explode. Her hands ached -- her grip too tight around her scythe's handles. She forced herself to relax._ _

__Unless she wanted to take the time and energy to dismantle the entire house... and who knew how stable the situation in the basement was, and what might end up rending a full-blown tear to the demonic planes... "How do I get into the basement?"_ _

__"Oh! Let me show you!" The creeper jumped up. Her hand twitched for her scythe, but the creeper wasn't even looking at her; it hurried over to the thatch pile spread over the foot of the bed and the surrounding floor. "The hatch is here."_ _

__The creeper started scraping at the thatch, batting aside chunks of rotting roof timbers and crushing a few of the white mushrooms. Silver spores drifted around its feet and gave a shimmery metal-plated effect to its claws._ _

__Under the scraps of what had once been a fancy rug, which had probably been the most expensive piece of furniture in the hut, was a heavy wood hatch in the floor. The creeper struggled with the handle. The planks were swollen with moisture and mold and the creeper clearly didn't have the strength to dislodge them. She reached forward slowly with her scythe and tapped the creeper on the side, nudging it gently away. Thankfully, it seemed to accept her pushing; how had its master directed it?_ _

__She knelt by the hatch, laying her hand on a slightly drier section of the wood and sinking her magic in, spreading it through the hatch. Slowly, she eased the water out, wringing it down into the basement until the hatch had shrunk back to its original proportions. The creeper was hovering over her shoulder, watching, and she carefully suppressed her nerves. Even with the burning slick nastiness from below, she could feel an ember at her back. As if just having a creeper standing next to her wasn't enough, it had to be a demon to boot. But it was a lesser concern than whatever was poisoning the land from below._ _

__She took a deep breath and opened the hatch._ _

__She was immediately grateful for that breath, as a horrid stench of decay erupted out of the lightless depths. Pulling a spring of dormant ivy root out of a pouch, she pressed it to her cheek and flooded it with energy. The ivy spread over her face, a tight lattice of stems and leaves weaving a mask to filter out the worst of the smell._ _

__She reached down with a foot and tested the strength of the ladder, but it seemed firm, and she slowly began climbing, carefully testing each rung and magically strengthening two she wasn't sure of._ _

__At the bottom, she stood in a ring of dim light surrounded by inky shadows. She held out her hand and twisted a wisp of magic into a magelight, holding it to the side where it wouldn't glare too badly at the edges of her vision._ _

__The basement was mostly earth, supported by sturdy planks of apple oak and the dutiful tangled roots from the nearby trees. Shelves lined the wall with the ladder, and in the center of the otherwise bare floor was an altar of pale stone -- a carved bowl ringed in runes that managed to glow a frustrated dull red without adding any actual light to the room._ _

__And there was blood _everywhere_._ _

__Dark brown and black streaks sunk into earth and wood. Splattered across the floor. Even a few splashes on the ceiling above the headless corpse lying at the base of the altar. And inside the altar..._ _

__Fresh as if the mage had only died while she was upstairs, it swirled gently -- self stirring. Halfway filling the bowl and blanketed by more of that irritated, red, lightless glow. And above it the rift she'd been chasing the last several miles._ _

__Barely a crack, a stray demon couldn't have stuck a claw through it even if it had wanted to. But the magic was leaking, squeezed out from the other side. Her skin itched in sympathy with her magical senses, which prickled and burned like a numb limb. If the creeper was an ember this was like the lava streams off a grumbling volcano. Only, even a fire mage wouldn't want to touch this. Not if they had any sense. Which she would admit many of her fellow apprentices had lacked..._ _

__She poked the corpse with her scythe. Without any head, it was unlikely to be a zombie, but it paid to be cautious. Behind her the ladder creaked, accompanied by the ringing of a tiny bell, and she decided that "how a creeper climbs a ladder" wasn't something she wanted to learn today. Especially if it meant turning her back on an active demonic portal._ _

__And with the portal in her sights now, the guardian had finally gone quiet, all its attention focused on the slim opening. Like a hunting dog pointed at the fallen bird. It had a target now, and she was its weapon. Though, her own weapon wasn't up to this task. She weighed the scythe in her hand. It wasn't able to split the thick stone the altar was carved from; at best it would dull to uselessness. This called for something a bit... blunter._ _

__Above her the roots thirsted, seeking water for their towering bodies. She lifted her hands, fingertips brushing against eager wood, and called them down. The roots writhed apart, untangling. Above her, the basement roof shifted, holding itself together only barely. But barely was enough._ _

__Roots thrust down like fat spears, stabbing through bones and stone and packed earth like they were all as dense as tilled farm soil. Blood poured from the cracked altar -- far more than the shallow bowl seemed to contain -- oozing out across the floor, color dulling and glow fading. It lapped against her boots like the edge of high tide and she scowled at the scrubbing she was going to have to give them tonight._ _

__The altar sizzled, like water on a frying pan. She braced herself, watching angry runes flicker and go out, one by one. This would be the last chance for a demon to make a move. But as the last rune erased itself, the rift collapsed without anything extra coming through. She sucked in a relieved breath, and already the air felt better. It still stunk of death, and she absently made a root pull the corpse underground as she stepped forward to examine the altar._ _

__Every last rune had vanished, and only a few blackened flecks hinted at what the stone had once held. She used the roots to tear the altar apart; if anyone dug this up, no one would know this had ever been used for blood magic. No one would get... inspired. Maybe they'd use the stone to make a garden fence; that would be fitting. She smiled at the thought as she fed the roots enough magic to reach the water table._ _

__It would take the land some time to recover. Time for the demonic energy to dissipate and the natural energy to recover from the choking blanket. But it would, now. The guardian curled up in her head, satisfied, already reaching out its senses to seek the next abomination to send her after._ _

__Behind her, a light scratch of soft claws on hard earth made her tense. She'd forgotten about the creeper. Apparently a mere fleck of demonic magic wasn't worth a guardian's time, but that still left her to deal with an _intelligent creeper_. She slowly turned around. The creeper was staring at her, frozen mid-step, one foot raised towards her. She considered it a moment, then swung her scythe up over her head and retied it to her back. "What are you going to do now, creeper? Your master is dead."_ _

__The creeper set its foot down and turned its head, staring down at the root that had buried its master's body. It wiggled its torso slightly, side to side, then turned back to her. "Can you teach me that?"_ _

__"What?" She didn't really have time to say more than that, as the creeper poured an avalanche of pleading over her, babbling about the roots and shattered rocks and long hours of study but not really fully understanding and a desperate desire to- She shook her head and held up a hand. "Wait. You really want to learn nature magic?"_ _

__The creeper nodded vigorously, jangling its bell. A rattling inside its body reminded her that it contained a wand and a book and who knew what else. "I know lots about magic but I just watch my master. I haven't done anything on my own. And that was-" it seemed to struggle for words, "I want to be able to do that!"_ _

__A demon learning nature magic. A demon who, if she was to teach it, would be helping hunt demons. She wasn't sure the guardian would appreciate the irony there, but it was certainly amusing to _her_. But there were a few more considerations than just the guardian's okay. "You wouldn't... explode, would you?"_ _

__The creeper stared at her. She'd never really found them that creepy before. Worrying, definitely. But they looked kind of goofy. Like someone's hedge had grown legs. It was a bit disconcerting how they looked like a plant without feeling like one to her magic, but they'd never been creepy._ _

__But she'd never been this close to one, staring into the dark holes in its expressionless, unmoving face as it considered her in turn._ _

__After a long moment of thought, the creeper answered, "I don't think I can. I just tried and nothing happened."_ _

__It had seriously just- ?! She glanced nervously around at the small confines of the basement and it's weakened roof. She was very grateful not to be adding to the bloodstains. "You know, if you'd exploded you would have died."_ _

__"Oh." the creeper said, in a small voice. It tilted its head to the side. One of its claws poked at the floor, digging a tiny hole into the dirt. "I shouldn't have tried to explode?"_ _

__She took a deep breath, then another. "No. You shouldn't have. And magic can kill you, too." Or worse, she didn't say. The guardian paused its search long enough to flick her a moment of disapproval, which she ignored. "So if you want me to teach you, you need to be careful, and listen to me, and not just do things without asking."_ _

__The creeper nodded, slowly and deliberately. "Okay. I can do that."_ _

__She closed her eyes briefly. Was she really doing this? Promising to help this thing learn magic? Helping a demon grow its power? The guardian was starting to make grumbling noises at her, and she pulled away from those thoughts. She knew what it would tell her if she was uncertain. If she questioned the right course of action. And she wasn't ready to kill the creature before her, yet. Not the surprisingly timid thing that liked to read and had loyally waited here after its master's death._ _

__"Do you have a name?" It should, but that didn't mean it knew what it was. Some mages would take the memory of their familiar's name, as an extra level of control._ _

__The creeper perked up, peering at her for a moment before answering, "Trevor."_ _

__"Alright, Trevor. I have to go back to the village, but I'll come back tomorrow." She paused, realizing a possibility. It might not have been loyalty keeping the creeper here. Keeping _Trevor_ here. "Is there anything binding you to this house, or can you leave?"_ _

__"I can leave." Trevor answered, turning and starting to climb the ladder as if to go demonstrate. She'd been right, she hadn't wanted to learn how a creeper climbed a ladder. "Master used to send me out gathering plants."_ _

__So it should already be familiar with at least a few plants and their habits. Good, that was a start. "I'll be back tomorrow." she told it again, once she'd followed it up to the surface, "Wait here for me."_ _

__The creeper nodded, then stared at her again. She wondered if the long pause was because it was trying to form facial expressions, or if it was just a slow thinker. "What's your name?"_ _

__She blinked. This was a dangerous choice. To give a demon her name. On the other hand, this wasn't a demon bound in a circle, raging and conspiring to get free. In fact- she was startled it hadn't occurred to her before. This demon _was_ free, completely. A bound familiar whose master died either died with their master, or was freed from its bonds. It should have destroyed the house in a fit of vengeful anger, then unsummoned itself back to the demonic realms. But here it was, still bound to a mortal body, asking to learn nature magic._ _

__In such a strange situation, it was hard to tell which would be less safe. Giving even a small, weak demon her name, or snubbing it. Or giving it a false name that someone might correct later, and being caught in a lie. Ugh, she should have adopted a use-name ages ago, but she'd never meant to deal with demons, only kill them. But this was no hateful beast destroying the countryside; she couldn't kill it off-hand._ _

__It was still staring at her. She had to decide._ _

__"My name is Wynn."_ _

__"See you tomorrow, Wynn!"_ _

__She waved behind herself as she walked away. "See you tomorrow, Trevor."_ _

__She was not looking forward to tomorrow. But she wasn't going to go back on her word, either. She took a moment to feel along the magical tether binding the guardian to her, but it was well and truly distracted. Good. Maybe she'd get to relax tonight in the village before she had to deal with whatever tomorrow held._ _

__Somewhere in the trees to her left, the vink-vink-vink of a male chaffinch began, and she smiled. Life always fought back against the demonic taint. Next year, only the most sensitive magic users would have any idea what had happened here._ _

__Another job well done._ _

____

=== === ===

**Author's Note:**

> Because I totally needed to start a new story instead of finishing one of my one-shots or posting a new chapter for one of my on-going fics.
> 
> Thank you, Mary, for all your inspiration and assistance with this world, these characters, and this story. :3
> 
> Trevor is my OC, Wynn is Mary's.


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